


oc drabbles

by mooselady



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi, My OCs, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:26:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooselady/pseuds/mooselady
Summary: mostly prompts from tumblr. i may post more about them, but probably not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> mostly prompts from tumblr. i may post more about them, but probably not.

**An absent look or touch.**

* * *

 

Far away lights fell from the blackest corners of the night. The tendrils spread. Heavy syrup filled her lungs, blanketing the young woman in shrouded slumber.

The apartment was unbearably hot. 

She had made it that way, witch of fire, brimstone and flame. Mordecai didn’t sleep anymore. Ruth slept enough for the both of them. 

He watched outside the wide window, every now and then lifting himself off the bed to come closer, close enough to touch the tip of his nose against the cool glass. He closed his eyes, sighed, imagined himself going limp and falling over. Instead he swayed on his own good two feet. 

The city never slept. There was no way to snuff out the lights. Mordecai heard dogs bark in the distance. Footsteps shuffled noisily upstairs.

He turned and watched the rise and fall of Ruth’s breathing, and something, a mini cataclysm in his chest burst, and he turned to cover his face with his palm, shaking.

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck, and he reached behind him, only to feel the tips of his fingers brush against skin not belonging to him. 

Mordecai blinked, his gaze meeting Ruth’s, her eyes swimming with sleep and heavy gold. She crossed her arms, her elbows resting in her palms. 

“I’ll stay up. You go to sleep.”

He said nothing, refusing to eye the bed he so longed to finally lay to rest in.

“I know you miss sleeping.” Ruth rubbed at her eye, yawning.

Mordecai furrowed his brow, nodding, absently brushing her hair behind her ear, placing his other hand on her shoulder. They stood like that for a moment, before Mordecai touched her face, moving away.

He took a step back, saying, “Watch the lights.”

Ruth faced the window. Against her, the city was a silhouette, a noisy animal demanding of sweat, blood, and grime.

“I see them.”

She shivered, so quickly and violently that Mordecai stopped himself from getting under the covers, watching her intently. 

Ruth smiled at him, but it faltered, never reaching her eyes. 

Outside the lights scratched and pleaded for the bedroom window to open.


	2. Chapter 2

**Coming home.**

* * *

 

He hadn’t taken the key from the ignition for a few minutes, his eyes going crossed the longer he stared at the steering wheel. No one was expecting him, and this made it all the more difficult to even drive here, let alone park the car in the driveway of his parent’s home.

Something incoherent crackled over the radio. A bird flew overhead, dolloping the windshield in a splatter of shit that caused Carcin to jerk, his eyes narrowing as it slid down to rest on the hood.

No lights were on inside. He reached for his pack of cigarettes in the glove compartment, taking his lighter from his pocket. Rolling down the window, stray puffs of smoke floated, escaping into the air. 

The air was stagnantly winter. The sky overcast, a stray plop of rain fell on his cheek, causing him to blink quickly, craning his neck out of the car window to look up at the sky. 

No sun, just grey. A flat gray landscape, up and down, wherever you looked.

Carcin placed his palm on his forehead, closing his eyes, inhaling and exhaling the nicotine buzz that he had hoped would give him the courage to walk out of this car and into a house of people who weren’t expecting him.

He sighed, his body rattling with fear.

They didn’t expect him because they were hoping he wouldn’t come home.

It was a stupid idea, he lamented, flicking ash onto the pavement. 

He could hear it now, his father overbearing, barking loudly, “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” Carcin’s mother glaring from the kitchen, suddenly too busy to talk, too busy to greet her son.

His sister, he thought to himself, probably already helped herself to taking his old clothes on the belief that he “didn’t like girl clothes anymore anyways.”

Carcin didn’t bother to hide his smirk at that, exhaling and smiling, his half finished cigarette pinched between his lips.

Birds flew in formation high above, dotting the flat sky in silhouettes of black. He watched them. He imagined one falling to the ground, injured, so he could come to its rescue, bundle it up lovingly in his jacket and nurse it back to health. He imagined himself being useful for once. 

Remorsefully at knowing what waited him behind that front door, Carcin flicked the cigarette onto the driveway gravel, turning the key from the ignition, and stepped out of the car, his bones popping and cracking with the movement. 

He scratched at his forehead, staring wide eyed at the hole in his sneaker. 

Above, birds squawked and flew, diving and lifting themselves up. He stepped quickly away, the danger of bird shit looming overhead, enough to make Carcin laugh, enough to make him keep going forward.


End file.
